


Roommate

by deathsspells



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Frerard, Happy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, it will get better i promise, tattoo!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsspells/pseuds/deathsspells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all honesty, he didn't want to live with someone else or want someone else to live with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frank Iero is lonely as fuck.

Saturdays were really nothing special for Frank Iero. It was just another ordinary, boring day of the week for him. However, one perk was that he did have Saturdays off work- something that he had been blessed with, so Frank would normally take a walk to the grocery store to, obviously, not buy any groceries- because a 24 year old was totally capable of living on a diet of take outs and chocolate flavoured poptarts, right?

Anyways, he would usually take full advantage of his day off and have a horror movie marathon (by himself, of course) and eat a shit load of popcorn- enough to make himself sick or whatever. You know, the usual day in day out shit.

The thing is, Frank didn't have many friends. Ray Toro and Bob Bryar, his work colleagues (who were also his friends from high school), were great people of course and sometimes they'd even go out to gigs together- like once a month if Frank actually gave a shit, and even then Bob would have to physically drag Frank out of the house because Bob is fucking huge and Frank, well, Frank is about the size of a small 7 year old.

But being lonely didn't bother him that much; in fact, he didn't really mind his quiet life in his very own apartment.

In all honesty, he didn't want to live with someone else or want someone else to live with him. What would be the fun in that? Like, on your own you can do whatever the fuck you want! No rules whatsofuckingever. You can watch your favourite TV shows all day long with no irrelevant arguments over who gets the remote, you can make as much mess as you want without people screaming shit at you every five seconds, oh and no one to tell you that you stink like shit so you can avoid the shower most days etcetera etcetera. But Frank thinks that the best thing about living all alone is that you can jerk off _whenever_ the fuck you want, _wherever_ the fuck you want (so what if Frank watches too much porn? He is only human).

So, it's a dull Saturday morning and Frank reluctantly left the house because, surprise surprise, he's out of coffee and poptarts and he fucking needs his breakfast more than he needs his next breath.

There was no time for him to get ready, so he looked like shit and he knew it; yesterday's eyeliner was still smudged around his huge hazel eyes, he had decided to wear his ripped jeans that hadn't been washed in about 8 years (that was another perk to living on your own, no fucking laundry!) and his old misfits shirt, which still hung loosely on his small body despite him shrinking it in the washing machine that one time- but we don't talk about that.

"Fuck," Frank whispered to himself as he stole a glance at himself in a small shop window. Now, he knew he looked like shit but he didn't expect himself to look  _this_ bad! He hadn't even done his fucking hair, so he now looked like a piece of shit walking around with messy black bed hair. Oh well, he guessed could probably play it off as sex hair if anyone asked, although, the situation was unlikely; he smirked to himself at the thought of that.

It wasn't that Frank was unattractive, because damn, he knew full well that he could be hot as fuck when he wanted to be, it was just the fact that he literally left the house every once in a blue moon.

That, and there's also the fact that he probably wouldn't label himself as the "committed" type. A few dirty hookups in filthy toilet cubicles are good enough to keep him going. It's not his fault though because he had honestly tried dating once but he just got so fucking _bored_. However, that was most probably because his ex boyfriend was absolutely wank in bed. Now, Frank isn't exactly a sex God himself- nonetheless, he has been told that he is fucking _amazing_ at giving head- but he at least likes to think of himself as a good fuck.

Moving on from the topic of Franks sex life, he is currently walking down the street, head down, earphones in, just the way he likes it. Living in his own head and ignoring the world- it's what he's used to.

He tends to avoid eye contact with people just because it's awkward looking at someone in the eyes, and also, look at anyone the wrong way and the most likely outcome is that you'll get your head kicked in. Plus, the neighbourhood is super creepy and like one in five people will probably turn out to be your local drug dealer or the guy who murdered those two kids in the park last week- but really, what else do you expect?

This is the uncanny streets of New Jersey for fucks sake, so that shit is probably pretty vanilla around here.

However, what Frank doesn't expect on his early morning walk is practically tripping over two legs sprawled out lazily on the path. _What the actual fuck_ Frank thinks as he curses himself for not looking where he was going. Well shit, he just fell over a fucking homeless guy and he was pretty sure he was going to get beat up or some shit; he'd be lucky to come out of this with a black eye or maybe a good kick in the balls. Yet, the man in the black coat- or was it a blanket? Frank couldn't tell- did nothing but stare at Frank like he'd seen a ghost or something.

"Shit, sorry man," Frank mumbled quietly as he abruptly lifted his gaze up from the ground to meet those shocking, familiar, gorgeous hazel eyes that hadn't changed one slight bit in the past 5 years.

Frank had never forgotten those eyes and the way the light shined in them. And before Frank could stop himself, his next words rolled smoothly from his tongue, like he had no self control in the world left...

"Gerard? Gerard Way?"


	2. Gerard's mom is a bitch.

Honestly, the first thing Frank really wanted to do was laugh because, _wow_. Gerard fucking Way. Homeless. He was at a loss for words. Long story short, Frank and Gerard had been quite close friends throughout high school, you could have even considered them best friends. After that, shit happened as usual and they both went their own individual ways.

Suddenly, Franks brain flashed back to that very moment, 5 whole years ago. Both of them were in an airport, waving their final goodbyes to each other. Gerard had fucking everything going for him back then- Frank had even admitted that he was fucking _jealous_ \- he was flying away to New York City to attend some fancy private art school, best in the country apparently, to become some famous artist and what not.

~

As it turned out, art school didn't really agree with Gerard.

It wasn't that Gerard was necessarily even bad at art, or that he was a bad student, it was the fact that he just couldn't compete with the other students and their work. See, Gerard had his own style of art, sort of like comic book style, which was obviously something that the school wasn't particularly looking for.

So it got to Gerard's final art exam, which if he passed, he'd be able to graduate- hallefuckinglujah! Yet, if he failed, he'd be kicked out for good. And I think we all know what happened...

So yeah, he ended up failing the final exam and woke up the next morning to get the next flight back to New Jersey as a surprise, expecting to be showered in hugs and kisses and "I missed yous" from his family. Despite having a high class life back in New York, Gerard had, deep down in his heart, really missed his old Jersey life. He'd missed his little brother Mikey the most, even though he was off living the perfect life with his wife in California. The two spoke occasionally, but they both knew they weren't as close as they used to be, which was pretty sad, really.

Evidently, there are many differences between New Jersey and New York. For a start, Jersey was rough. Really fucking rough. Crimes and shootings and murders here, there and everywhere. The place was absolutely smothered in danger; and that is exactly what Gerard craved so bad. He'd missed the violence and the adrenaline.

Sure enough, New York was stylish and luxurious and fancy, if you liked dressing up in expensive suits that cost more than your own life is worth, and if you liked going to super deluxe restaurants you've never even heard the name of, and if you liked to eat lettuce with a bunch of arrogant cocksuckers who pretend to like you and talk about how everything in the fucking world is art.

No. Gerard was _not_ all about that life.

In a way, you could say it was kind of a blessing that Gerard got kicked out of art school, because he certainly did _not_ want to turn out to be a pretentious asshole. However, it was also very much not a blessing because, _hell_ , if Gerard thought things couldn't get any worse- he was wrong. So fucking wrong. Not only did Gerard get kicked out of art school, he got kicked out of his own fucking home. His mom was so disappointed with him for becoming "nothing but a failure" as she had put it, yet she didn't even know the full story. She just could not understand for some reason; she believed that Gerard had sincerely put no effort into his work, that he went out drinking every night with those group of bad influences which he used to call his "friends".

See, that was a thing of the past now (and even if he did get back into his old habits, he was 25 years old now, surely he could make his own choices now?). Anyway, Gerard had stopped hanging around with the wrong people and drinking and doing drugs and partying every night, hell, he even stopped _smoking_ for Christ sake. But it seemed no one could see that he'd changed, not even his own fucking mother. Gerard was even on his knees, crying his heart out desperately, begging to stay.

"Mom it's not my fault, I swear to fucking god I put my heart and soul into all my work! It's just that nobody understand me!" He cried out.

"No Gerard," his mom began. "You have no one to blame but yourself, God, I shouldn't have even let you go. You're not even the same person anymore look at yourself!"

And he couldn't. Ever since those words came out of his own mothers mouth he couldn't see the person he'd changed into. All the saw was the past. But that wasn't who he was anymore! Why did nobody understand?

After a good few hours of arguing and crying and screaming and shouting at one another, Gerard and his mom finally came to a reasonable agreement.

"You go out there," she sighed, "and prove to me that you can do it. You get yourself a job, you stay out of trouble and you can come back when you think you're ready." Gerard frantically nodded at this, tears still spilling from his eyes. He could do it, he knew he had it in him.

Nevertheless, he wiped his tears and gathered his belongings- he didn't need to pack any bags, seen as though he'd just travelled back from New York, so all of his important things were already packed. Still, he was still unbelievably gobsmacked that his own fucking mother had just basically thrown him out on the streets. Talk about always loving your family no matter what! Bullshit.

Jesus Christ, he was scared. So so scared. This was New fucking Jersey; he could bet that he'd be dead by morning. Yet, he gave his final hugs and goodbyes to his mother and off he went- obviously having no fucking clue where he was going.

He could not believe he'd just been thrown out onto the fucking _street_.

The jet black night sky hung over him and the moon followed him wherever he went (he really hoped that was the only thing that was following him). _Shit_ he thought to himself, he was well and truly fucked. There was literally nobody he could call, nobody he could stay with because he hadn't been in contact with anyone from Jersey in about, what, _5 fucking years_.

Wind began to pick up steadily and it was starting to get cold, so Gerard stopped in his tracks and placed his belongings on the floor. Here was better than anywhere he guessed? Wow, he still couldn't get over the fact that he was homeless; he even laughed to himself at the thought of it. Maybe he could call Mikey, but California was like, Gerard tried to work it out as he drifted off to sleep in the cool Jersey air, 2 days away... Yawn... There was probably no point...

Morning came around quickly, and when Gerard woke up he had to remind himself that this was not, in fact, a dream. Where even was he? In the middle of a fucking street, for fucks sake, there were people walking around him, people were even staring at him. This was fucking _embarrassing_ , he thought to himself. At least he still had all of his bags still fully intact with him, maybe New Jersey wasn't as bad as he remembered it to be?

Finally, after about ten minutes of contemplating whether to get up or not, Gerard moved his legs to try stand up. But of course, of fucking course, he managed to trip somebody over. _This is it, I am going to die, this guy is about to gun me down, oh shit_. Gerard anxiously looked up at the man who was surely about to kill him. However, the small man with the tousled black hair did not pull out a gun or a knife or even raise his fist.

He did something so much worse.

He spoke his name.


	3. Coffee?

The two men stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. It seemed after about 5 minutes, that Gerard finally decided to break the silence.

"Frank, uh..." Gerard stuttered, and his face fell immediately, he really did not have a fucking clue what to say. His was face to face with his childhood best friend, who was practically gawking at him with those oh-so familiar pretty puppy dog eyes because he was laid in the middle of the street, fucking _homeless_. Being shot or stabbed didn't seem too much of a bad idea right about now because, Jesus Christ, this was hands down the most humiliating situation he had ever been in. He didn't even know why Frank still bothered to stand there.

But Frank, on the other hand, wasn't going anywhere at all. He gave Gerard a sympathetic smile and simply held out his tattooed hand as an offer to help him get up, something in which Gerard wasn't expecting at all. Frank figured he should have probably asked him if he was alright, or even saying hello would have made a good start. Still, Gerard took Franks arm, stood up and began to explain, itching his head while chewing nervously on his dirty fingernails. "Look, um, wow this is just super embarrassing for me I don't even know...."

Again, all Frank wanted to do was to burst out laughing because Gerard was dorky as fuck and he loved it. Gerard was even blushing, _oh God_ ; he was super cute, like out of this fucking world cute- he'd even got hotter since he'd been away (not that he wasn't hot beforehand anyways, Frank remembered).

Despite being laid out on the streets, Frank knew that he hadn't been sleeping out there for very long, as his vivid, freshly dyed red hair- which Gerard wouldn't stop flicking out of his face, another thing that was driving Frank insane- instantly gave it away. Not to mention that he had about 4 huge bags with him and he was fully dressed in the tightest jeans you've ever seen- which most definitely left absolutely _nothing_ to the imagination, not in Franks dirty mind anyways- no fucking way could a homeless guy pull that look off.

 _Fuck_ , Frank didn't know what to say to his ex best friend apart from "Hey, how the fuck did you get so hot over the past 5 years?"

But, of course, Frank wasn't that rude. He made sure he'd save that for later.

He just couldn't get over how much he'd changed! God, the last time they saw each other Gerard looked absolutely nothing like he did now. The only thing that made Frank 100% sure that it was really him was those gorgeous hazel eyes that he could get lost in for hours.

Back five years ago, Gerard hadn't even looked like he'd taken a shower in at least the last 6 months, his hair was pretty long too- just past his shoulders, jet black and greasy as fuck. He was so fucking skinny too, so fragile and pale that he looked as if he could snap in two at any moment. Basically, he looked like a corpse or some shit like that.

So what if Frank remembered every key detail of his last encounter with him, it didn't mean anything, right?

Yet now, he was none other than fucking _beautiful_.

First of all, the biggest and most obvious difference was that his hair was fucking bright red; the kind of red that not many people could pull of, but _hell_ , Gerard did. Little strands of hair fell over his face perfectly. He was still pale as fuck though, like a vampire, but Frank liked the contrast of his vibrant hair against his pasty skin. Aw, he even still had his tiny button nose. Then Frank scanned his body. Sure enough he'd put on weight, but it was the good kind of weight gain. He looked healthy now, rather than looking like he was going to break. He looked a hell of a lot better. Fuck, those thighs. Frank wouldn't mind getting his head in between them one day.

Honestly, Frank had no idea where these thoughts were coming from. Gerard was his old best friend (though, due to the loss of contact over the years, did that even matter anymore?) and all he could think about was having sex with the damn guy!

Maybe Frank just needed to get laid more often.

Gerard gave him an uneasy smile as Frank obviously wasn't paying attention to what he was saying, as 5 seconds ago he was mentally trying to undress him or whatever. But Jesus Christ! Gerard himself might have changed, but those tiny little teeth most definitely had not. Frank really did not understand how one person could be so damn cute yet so damn fuckable at the same time.

"Gerard, wow I'm sorry, I, um, I mean I didn't mean to, like, shock you like that or whatever.. I..." Frank trailed off, he didn't even know why he was embarrassed. He probably wasn't even embarrassed at all, it was that fact the Gerard was so overwhelming, wow.

Gerard laughed- the most adorable laugh you'd ever heard. "Nah don't worry about it Frank. It's been so long right?! I haven't seen you in years man."

 _Yeah_ , Frank thought, _that's because you pissed off to fancy fucking art school_.

But he gritted his teeth, he didn't want to ruin this moment. Besides, this could possibly be the last time they'd ever speak to each other again for another 5 more years.

"I could say the same about you," Frank snorted, trying not to make his annoyance evident. "How was art school, anyways?" And then, Gerard suddenly stopped laughing. In fact he groaned, a little bit too loudly.

"Well..." He huffed, and ran his pale, long fingers through his colourful hair. "It was fun for the most part, you know, but look where it got me in the end."

"What do you mean, like, wait... you mean you didn't graduate?" Frank asked, evidently confused.

The red headed man rolled his eyes. "Well of fucking course not! If I did, I wouldn't have been disowned by my own mom, or living on the streets now would I?" He raised his eyebrows at Frank.

Okay, so maybe 'living on the streets' was kind of an exaggeration, seen as though he'd been out for literally one night. It hadn't even been a full day yet.

If Frank wasn't confused enough earlier, he was really fucking confused now. "What the fuck Gerard? You got kicked out of art school? Like, kicked out for real?"

Gerard nodded slowly. "Yep." He popped the 'P' loudly with his thin pale lips.

"That's fucking bullshit man- I've seen your work, holy fuck, that shit is amazing! It belongs in like, a fucking museum or some shit." Frank was full on raging now, totally forgetting that they were in the middle of a fairly busy street. Fucking dumbass school.

Gerard smirked, _that God forbidden smirk_ , the one that Frank could never forget. Nothing had changed, Frank still seemed to curse a hell of a lot, and there was something oddly hot about that.

"Look, how about I buy us some coffee-" because even though they hadn't been in touch in years, they both still remembered each others cravings "- and I'll explain the whole story to you." Gerard grinned, with his full baby sized teeth on show again.

For one, the purpose of Frank leaving the house in the first place was to get coffee. And two, who in the right mind would deny free coffee? And finally, there was no fucking way on this earth that Frank could ever turn down that smile.


	4. Just like old times.

"So you're in a band huh? That's so fucking cool man!" Gerard said.

It seemed like they'd been in the small coffee shop for hours, exchanging new conversation and discovering new things about each other every minute. For example, Frank found out that Gerard didn't even want to be an artist after all! And that he was into horror movies and comic books and they had the same music taste and both of them rarely left the house. Basically, they were still the same person.

Having a lot of things in common helped the conversation flow too, so it was never awkward at any point. It was nice, though; they had definitely missed each other. Well, Frank had definitely missed Gerard... more than he originally thought he would.

"Well, I used to be," Frank responded to Gerard's previous question, whilst sipping slowly on his coffee. "We weren't that huge though, we only played small shows and stuff but I liked it whilst it lasted. It was something that I always wanted to do y'know."

"I always knew you had it in you Frankie," and in that moment, Gerard fucking winked at Frank.

 _Frankie_... Well, things suddenly began to get very interesting.

"Oh really now, Gee?" Frank raised his eyebrows, smirking. _Two can play at this game,_ he thought _._

Gerard nodded and pursed his lips, seeming to ignore Franks attempt at flirting back. "Of course Frank, I mean, you're amazing at playing guitar. Like, I remember when I used to come over to your house and watch you play and you were just so into it. I remember that look you had in your eyes, like, you were so passionate about what you were doing and you would put your heart and soul into playing, even if it was only in front of me," Gerard smiled, his eyes crinkling up. He was so lost in his thoughts and memories to stop himself from babbling on.

"And I remember, like when you'd get a part wrong, you'd start cursing a lot and you'd start blushing and it was so funny but, _God_ , you were so cute." And in that moment, Gerard's face suddenly turned the same colour as his hair as he realised he'd probably said too much. He mentally face palmed himself.

Frank, on the other hand, didn't know what to say at all. He never realised that Gerard paid that much attention to him that long ago. It was kind of heart warming to say the least.

Back in high school, when Frank and Gerard were best friends, Frank couldn't help but feel something more towards Gerard that 'just friends'. However, he never thought that Gerard would feel the same way about him, whether it be next week or over the next hundred years. They both knew they were gay, yet they never came out to each other, so that factor still remained oblivious between the two of them. Yet, at this moment, Frank couldn't help but wonder if Gerard had felt the same way about him back all those years ago...

Gerard was still blushing when Frank looked at him, he was so _goddamn_ cute.

"Oh, wow, uh," Frank was still speechless and mentally cursed himself for not being able to come up with a better answer than that.

The tension between them both began to get more and more awkward by the second. Gerard finally decided to do something about it; he stood up sharply and grabbed his belongings.

"Look I gotta go, uh, I need to find a place to stay for tonight," he laughed, even though there was obviously nothing funny about the situation.

Frank honestly felt so sorry for him. So sorry that before he could stop himself he blurted out the first thought that came into his head.

"Why don't you come and stay with me for a little while?" _Shit_ , he'd said it now. There was no going back. "Y'know, just until your mom lets you back at hers or whatever."

Gerard stared at the younger man with a look of disbelief. "No Frank, I can't let you do that," he sighed, yet he secretly hoped that Frank sincerely wanted him to stay.

"Of course you can, come on, I can't let you live on the streets now can I?" Frank raised his eyebrows, _fuck it_ , he'd also probably feel bad knowing that Gerard was out there in the freezing cold on his own in New fucking Jersey.

Gerard had to physically stop himself from jumping on Frank and giving him a massive hug. One, because they were in the middle of a coffee shop and there were a lot of people round them. And two, because Frank is like 3 ft tall and he would probably fall straight to the ground. He hadn't grown that much in five years, bless him.

"Well if you're sure about it then, uh, okay. Wow, thank you so much I, uh, how can I make it up to you?" Gerard asked; he was trying to hide his excitement by playing it off cool.

However, Frank could see the look of enthusiasm on his face. His eyes were wide and glowing, the light shining in them and his mouth kept twitching up at the corners, like he was trying to hide his smile, leaving him with sweet little dimples. Frank couldn't believe that this beautiful man was about to move in with him.

"Well, let's just say that coffees on you," Frank winked.


	5. Moving in.

Frank, overall, enjoyed living alone, don't get him wrong, but he was beginning to maybe think that he actually needed some company. Sometimes the quietness would get a tad too much and he'd start to feel pretty lonely some nights. Plus he and Gerard had a hell of a lot of things in common, so maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he originally thought.

Well to be honest, he didn't exactly think it was a bad idea, seen as though he was really fucking desperate to get into the man with the fiery red hairs pants, it's just that Frank was just so fucking _awkward_ with people.

Especially Gerard, of all people. They had only been reunited, like what, not even one full day yet and Frank already felt as if Gerard had put him under a magic spell or some shit. He was _way_ too gone for the guy to even care anymore.

They each finished their coffee, with Gerard paying of course, and began to make their way back to Franks apartment. _Shit_ , he thought, as he remembered that he hadn't even cleaned the apartment in like, the past two years. Frank didn't usually care about the mess if people were just popping in for a little while, but Gerard was about to fucking move in with him now. This was like a huge wake up call for him to finally get his shit together.

It was only a short walk, around 10 minutes, till they reached the building. They exchanged small talk on the way down, but nothing really exciting. Franks room was on the fifth floor, so it took a hell of a lot of stairs before they finally reached where they were heading. Frank helped Gerard carry his bags, because he was a true gentlemen of course. Ha.

"Wow, it's a nice place you've got here," Gerard smiled while absorbing in his new surroundings.

And he honestly did think that. It wasn't much, but it just represented Frank in every single way possible. Mostly because it was fucking messy and there was a huge bookshelf next to the tv dedicated to CDs and movies and comic books; that was Gerard's favourite part.

"I hope you're being sarcastic, Way," Frank laughed as he dumped Gerard's belongings on the couch.

Suddenly Frank and Gerard were both overwhelmed by the mess. "Shit, I gotta tidy up. Y'know I wasn't really expecting to bump into a homeless guy and then fetch him back to my apartment to come and live with me, it's not something I do very often," he winked.

Gerard giggled again, fucking giggled.

"Oh so I should think myself lucky should I?" He purred back, biting his lip.

Well shit. Frank was never ever ever going to get over the fact, no matter how long Gerard stays with him, that Gerard can go from making you think 'aw he's so goddamn cute I wanna cuddle him' to 'fuck I want you to fuck me through the fucking floor already' in less that 0.2 seconds. He was going to fucking kill him.

Gerard was looking up at Frank through his long, pretty, fluttering eyelashes while he was still biting his lip. He was trying so hard to wind up Frank that it was fucking _funny_. Frank wasn't fully aware that he was still staring at Gerard till he snickered.

"Jesus Frank, I'm just kidding you idiot," he smirked.

And Frank, being the awkward person that he is, just blushed and nodded and tried so hard to stop himself from popping a boner. _Pull your fucking self together,_ he thought. Gerard is his friend and definitely somebody on the list of people that he should most certainly  _not_ be getting hard over.

After Frank had finally managed to compose himself and Gerard had make himself at home, kinda, he asked "So, um where will I be sleeping or whatever?"

"Fuck," Frank mumbled, he really hadn't thought this through one bit. "I'm so sorry Gerard I don't even have a fucking spare room. Oh jeez, it'll probably have to be the couch or with me"- he did not mean to say that, he did not mean to say that at all-" but y'know it's probably better if you sleep on the couch, yeah, sorry," he blushed and looked down, embarrassed.

However, in Gerard's opinion, it was like Frank was basically asking to be seduced. Gerard didn't mind at all though, he could play along with it.

"Oh I'd sleep with you Frankie," he winked. "But the couch will be fine, I appreciate it."

Frank really needed to control himself, Jesus Christ. He was stuck with Gerard now, he was coming to live with him and he was practically acting like an embarrassing fangirl around him.

"Don't worry man, stay here as long as you like. It's not like I get much company anyways," Frank laughed.

So Frank was single, Gerard saved a mental note of that for later.

Gerard got up and began to examine Franks vast collection of films. Dawn of the dead seemed to catch his eye in particular.

"Hey can I get a coffee?" He asked.

"Sure dude, what's mine is yours now," Frank smiled.

"And then can we watch this, pretty pretty please," Gerard held up the DVD he had previously chosen and fluttered his eyelashes.

Frank smiled and nodded and Gerard made a small 'eeek' noise, barely loud enough for him to hear. Frank was falling so hard for him already but he didn't mind. He decided that maybe living with someone else wouldn't be too bad after all.


	6. Playing hard to get doesn't work that well.

Gerard had been living with Frank for a couple of weeks now and Frank was beginning to feel that it was the best decision he had ever made. Gerard was the best roommate Frank could ever ask for! They would always watch the same tv shows because they were into the exact same things, neither of them gave a shit if the small apartment was messy as fuck, and the best thing of all was that they'd wear each others clothes if they couldn't be arsed to do the laundry. Frank felt that was a sign.

Over the few weeks, Frank had been trying so hard to make a move on Gerard. He was trying, oh hell, he was trying all right- it just seemed that Gerard was so oblivious. But what he didn't seem to understand was that Gerard would flirt with Frank a hell of a lot, but as soon as Frank returned the favour- he would totally ignore him. _What the actual fuck?!_

But of course, Frank put this down to Gerard playing hard to get.

Gerard, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. He just loved winding Frank up; it was actually becoming one of his favourite past times. What Frank didn't know, was that Gerard felt exactly the same way about him as he did with Gerard. They were basically head over heels for each other- only neither of them knew about it!

The older man loved the way that Frank would go all nervous sometimes when he was talking, the way he played the guitar so passionately (Gerard had forced Frank to show him some of his skills) and most of all, he fucking loved his tattoos.

Now, Gerard knew that Frank had a couple of tattoos. For example, in high school he got this scorpion on top of his neck, which he also almost got excluded for. But Gerard never expected his body to be this covered! He was like a walking piece of art and Gerard felt as if he'd won the fucking lottery. Gerard saw most of Franks tattoos on a daily basis, like when they were just lounging in the house, located on his arms and his legs. The sight made Gerard nearly drool on the spot.

"Jesus Frank, how many tattoos do you actually have?" Gerard had asked, bewildered at the sight.

"Oh just a few," he replied sarcastically. "And I've got some more if you wanna see them," his tone quickly changed and he smirked at Gerard, whilst tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt teasingly.

Gerard just stared at Frank with wide eyes and tried to stop himself from cumming in his pants there and then.

Ever since that day, Gerard began to wonder what other masterpieces Frank had hidden underneath his clothes. All he could use was his imagination, yet it wasn't enough. He was so desperate to discover more.

Turns out that today was Gerard's lucky day.

It was around 10 at night and Gerard was trying so hard not to fall asleep on the couch, watching the TV through his half lidded eyes, while Frank was busy taking the longest shower in the fucking world. Gerard had finally just began to drift off to sleep when Frank came bursting into the living room.

"Gerard have you seen my shirt dude?" He shouted whilst running his tattooed hands through his wet hair.

Gerard groaned and was about to start complaining about how Frank had woken him up until he turned his head around to look at Frank. Suddenly, he found that he was no longer tired.

Frank was stood in the room wearing absolutely nothing other than a small towel that hung low on his small waist, his jet black hair dripping wet making him look like the definition of _sex_. Gerard's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets and it took all of his will power to not go over to him and fuck him right against the wall. There was one thing that caught his eye in particular- two swallows were painted perfectly on his hips.

Fuck, all Gerard wanted to do was to trace every single tattoo on the smaller mans body with his tongue. He wanted Frank withering underneath him till he was a fucking _mess_. He wanted to fuck him so hard that he wouldn't be able to walk for _days_.

Frank was still stood in the same position and he could see that Gerard was staring- if he was trying to be discreet, he wasn't doing a very good job- and he knew exactly what he was staring at. It took all of Gerard's strength to finally take his eyes off of Frank before he got even more flustered.

"Uh no I haven't, uh sorry," Gerard replied, shaking his head and trying to get a hold of himself. All of a sudden, he realised that he was way too caught up in his inappropriate thoughts to notice he had a growing problem down 'there' that needed sorting. _Fast_.

Frank bit his lip. So, it seems that Gerard has a thing for his tattoos. Frank could use this to his advantage. He smirked and felt oddly proud that he had now discovered Gerard's weakness.

Anyways, Frank had found his shirt and put it on, with Gerard almost protesting but he ended up keeping his mouth shut. He desperately needed Frank to get out of the room so he could take care of his semi hard dick, like, now. Gerard rarely jerked off whilst he'd been living with Frank- he mostly did it in the shower, because getting yourself off on your best friends couch is a little bit weird for the both of you. Yet now, he was beyond caring.

Around 10 minutes later Frank was starting to get sleepy so he left Gerard and took himself off to his own bed. Fucking finally, Gerard thought. He could hardly breathe at the thought of what he was about to do- he felt like a fucing teenager that had just discovered masturbation, but he couldn't care less- it seemed like years since he last had a good orgasm.

He waited until he was one hundred percent certain that Frank was asleep and he turned up the TV a little so it would drown out any potential noises. Gerard had been hard ever since Frank had walked into the room earlier and his boner was going nowhere.

Gerard placed himself on the edge of the couch with his legs spread wide, one hand palming his cock through his jeans and the other hand under his shirt rubbing his hipbones, teasing himself. It felt so good but the friction just wasn't enough; he needed more. He groaned and shimmied out of his ridiculously tight jeans and threw them on the floor. He sprawled himself out on the couch and wrapped his hand around his cock, moving it slowly.

"Mmm..." he moaned, whilst bucking his hips up to his fist. Fuck, it felt so good to have a relief. He ran his thumb over the slit of his cock which caused him to make an "oh" sound. He craned his neck slightly; the strands of his striking red fell over eyes as he began to increase the speed of his movements.

But he wanted this to last, as this may be his last orgasm for another week or so. Finally, he stopped moving his hand and tried to steady his erratic breathing. When he was ready to start back up, he changed his position and got up on his knees, grabbing onto the back of the couch. Then he sucked two fingers into his mouth and lathered them up with his saliva- usually he would mentally curse himself for not going to get any lube, but he was too far gone to care. Gerard started moaning, imagining the fingers in his mouth were Franks gorgeous, tattooed ones instead. They would probably feel much better in his ass too.

When he felt that he had coated them enough, he reached back in between his legs and applied pressure with one finger, teasing his hole. Soon though, he couldn't take it any more and slowly started to work a finger into himself. It was painful to begin with, probably because Gerard hadn't been laid or done this for quite a while, but he secretly enjoyed the burning sensation. Soon enough, as he began to thrust his finger in and out more quickly, the pleasure took over and a single finger just wasn't enough anymore.

"Fuck," he cried out, as he added another digit. His muffled, breathless moans began to get louder and louder; being quiet was the last thing on his mind right now. When he had adjusted to the second finger, he just fucking went for it. He braced his other hand on the back of the couch and began riding his own fingers. The image of Franks tattoos from earlier started replaying through his mind and he was soon imagining that he was riding Franks cock instead, running his hands all over the artwork that was Franks body. In reality though, he imagined Franks cock to be much bigger, more satisfying, leaving him feeling more stretched and more full than ever.

The thought made him start fucking bouncing up and down on his digits, desperate to find that sweet spot.

Gerard suddenly curled his fingers in a way which almost had him screaming out loud with pleasure. He slowed his hips down and began to thrust his fingers against his prostate, almost hitting it every time. Sweat started dripping down his face, his mouth was hanging open obscenely, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his breath was coming in short, quick pants now. He could only _imagine_ what he looked like.

It seemed he had forgotten about his cock, which was absolutely dripping with precum. Just a few more nudges against his prostate and Gerard arched his back. "Frank, uh, fuck mmmh..." he let out a long, filthy moan and was cumming so hard that he was seeing fucking stars. He couldn't believe he just came that hard with his cock completely untouched. He also couldn't believe that he had just had one of the best orgasms of his life with the image of his best friend in his head.

After he eventually came down from his climax and after his breathing had returned to normal, he got himself cleaned up- and also the couch- and settled himself down for the night. Fuck, the room seemed almost silent even though the TV was still playing, and Gerard wasn't exactly being quiet earlier. He blushed as he realised that Frank probably heard a lot of that. Getting off like that seemed like a pretty bad idea now but still, he didn't regret it. Not one fucking bit.

Gerard remembered that Frank was quite a deep sleeper back in high school, yet he wasn't quite sure of it now. However, there was one thing that Gerard was one hundred percent sure of though, and that was that he had one hell of a tattoo kink. Or rather, a Frank Iero's tattoo kink.


	7. Gerard is 'sick'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hopefully I can update more often because exams are done :))))

If there was one world to describe the next day it was awkward. Just plain and simply _awkward_. The next morning Frank awoke and entered the living room, same as every morning, to wake Gerard up too. However, he noticed there was something quite different about the way the older man was acting this morning.

"Dude it's like the middle of the day, get up you lazy shit," Frank proceeded to yawn and playfully smack Gerard's leg in an attempt to wake him. Gerard, on the other hand, did not find the gesture playful at all. He stirred awake and groaned as he stretched his legs.

As he began to open his eyes, last nights memories seemed to play over and over on repeat in his head, enough to never let him forget. Fuck... He made a huge mistake. He fucking got off on the thought of his best friend! Not to mention it was probably one of the best orgasms he'd ever had in his fucking life. Surely that wasn't normal. Gerard tried his best to hide his embarrassment and to not make anything seem obvious, but knowing Frank, he was sure that he would notice something eventually.

Meanwhile, Frank was messing in the cupboards trying to find something to make for breakfast. "Hey Gee, do you want pancakes?" He asked. Even just a simple question was enough to make Gerard blush like fuck.

"Uhh... Sure whatever," he mumbled back. Shit, he really needed to get a hold of himself fast. He could feel his cheeks reddening at the sound of Franks voice and was actually a little scared to face him.

After around 10 minutes, Frank eventually made the pancakes, some may have been burnt but they were still edible in his eyes, and set himself down next to Gerard as they both ate together. In silence. The TV buzzed quietly in the background, but the stillness was beginning to drive Frank insane.

"Gerard are you feeling okay?" He asked with a mouthful of pancake, as he finished his last bite. He noticed that Gerard had barely touched his food and he was genuinely concerned.

Gerard tired his best to ignore the lump in his throat. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, uh," he began to feel his cheeks reddening once again as Frank had noticed he was acting strange.

Fuck! What was he supposed to tell him... Setting aside his plate, Frank knelt down on the floor in front of where Gerard was sat and began to examine him. He placed his angelic hands on Gerard's cheeks and then on his forehead. The coolness of Franks hands on Gerard's hot face was both a blessing and a curse. The cold feeling was enough to help calm him down and compose himself, yet, Franks hands were there. Right fucking _there_. Caressing his skin. Stroking along the surface. Gerard could clearly see the gorgeous patterns painted along the tanned skin of his hands; it was enough to make him feel slightly faint.

The whole time Frank was feeling around Gerard's face, the two men's eyes never broke contact. You could even say the moment was quite intimate. Frank couldn't still quite believe how pretty Gerard was. The way he flutters his lashes and the way he talks out of the side of his mouth and the way he crinkles his tiny nose just makes Frank want to devour him sometimes.

But Frank had a job here, he was just checking to see if Gerard was coming down with a fever or something like that. He broke his thoughts and hummed.

"Gee you look hot- no, I mean you feel hot, uh." Frank shook his head. "No, what I mean is that I think you might be coming down with something."

Gerard discreetly let out a sigh of relief. He could easily fake being ill, that wasn't hard. He'd do just about anything to avoid telling Frank that he came with 2 fingers up his ass whilst thinking about him. Yeah, pretending to be ill would be a piece of cake.

"Oh," Gerard said, and proceeded to stand up. But Frank grabbed him by the shoulders and stopped him.

"Nuh uh, you're not going anywhere today. You need to stay wrapped up and relax, okay?" Frank protested. Hm. Gerard didn't mind that at all. He'd have the apartment to himself all day so he could basically do whatever he wanted, life was good.

However, Frank went into his bedroom and picked up his phone.

"Gerard I'm just gonna call in sick today so I can take care of you," he smiled sympathetically.

Just as Gerard was about to protest, he weighed up the decision in his head. He nodded; a full day with Frank doing absolutely nothing but watching shitty TV on the couch together. Gerard was beginning to think this was too good to be true!

Shuffling around on the couch trying to get comfortable, Gerard tried to hide his excitement by replacing his beaming smile with a gloomy expression. Frank then came back into the room after his boss had told him that it was fine to have the day off and noticed that Gerard was looking miserable.

He sighed. "Gerard do you need me to get anything for you or whatever?"

"Uh, maybe just some paracetamol or something, please." Gerard replied, groaning for effect.

Frank got the meds and gave them to Gerard as he sat down beside him. "My boss told me not to come in so you've got me for the whole day," Frank winked and rubbed Gerard's back.

"Oh lucky me," Gerard replied sarcastically. He laughed.

Frank furrowed his brows. "Wow, don't get too excited about it then," he huffed.

"You know I'm joking you idiot," he rolled his eyes playfully.

The younger man smiled, "I know, you love me really."

As soon as that line escaped Franks mouth, an awkward tension began to fill the air. Gerard tried to hide the fact that he was blushing once again. He just giggled quietly.

After that, the two men watched TV for a little while in silence. It was nice, however, to hear nothing but the buzzing of the show they were watching and the sound of each others breathing. Gerard had changed his position since the beginning of the morning and was now laid down with his head in Franks lap. It was just so _nice_. The feeling of Franks chest rising and falling with every breath he took. The way Franks fingers caressed the strands of his soft yet greasy red hair. The moment couldn't get anymore perfect.

Frank, once again, decided to break their little bubble of contentment when the most random thought entered his head. "Hey Gee, do you like soup? I wanna make you some soup," he casually announced.

Gerard looked up at Frank, confused. "Erm yeah I guess," he laughed. "Why do you wanna make me soup though?"

"Well, one because you're sick and people eat soup when they're sick, duh," he mocked. "And two because it's nearly 5 o'clock and you haven't eaten at all today."

That statement took Gerard by surprise; he didn't realise how quickly the time had passed by. He thought it was only 1pm or something. But Frank was right, he was starting to get a little peckish and his stomach seemed to agree with him as it growled noticeably.

"Well I guess I could do with something to eat," he yawned and sat up fully on the couch. He scratched his head. The texture of his hair felt dirty, like I-feel-like-I-haven't-washed-my-hair-in-about-six-months dirty. Sometimes he didn't know how Frank put up with him.

In the meantime, Frank was rooting around in the cupboards looking for anything that resembled soup, but of course, knowing his luck there were none. He sighed. "Shit, I'm gonna have to go out for a bit to get it if that's okay?" He asked.

"Sure sure, but make sure you get the nice tomato one in the plastic tub, not in the shitty one in the tins, please," Gerard requested, he'd always been a bit of a picky eater.

Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard's fussiness, though he didn't mind it at all. He loved every little thing about Gerard.

"Yeah yeah whatever," he smiled. "I won't be too long." He went out and shut the door behind him. "

See ya," Gerard replied, but the door was already shut by the time the words left his mouth. The red headed man finally got up and left the couch for the first time that day.

Jesus Christ, it was 5pm and he had done absolutely nothing the whole day. Part of him was grateful for the time he got to spend with Frank, but the other half couldn't help but feel like the day had been wasted away. _Hell_ , he hadn't even bushed his teeth!

Moving hesitantly, he dragged himself over to the bathroom and took a look at himself in the mirror. Oh god. He looked like someone had dragged him through a thorn bush, or like he'd been caught in a fist fight with a lion. Basically, he looked like pure shit. His hair was clammy, sticking together with the grease and pointing up in all different directions. To be truthful, he couldn't actually remember the last time he showered. Gross.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face, the coolness of the water feeling shocking yet refreshing. But still, he felt dirty, so he proceeded to get a shower. The spray of the water hitting his entire body was pleasant and finally he began to feel clean again. He got out feeling cleansed and fresh, he dried himself off and sat down on the couch, waiting patiently for Frank to come back.

~

Meanwhile, Frank was wandering around the supermarket like a little lost puppy searching for Gerard's soup. He found it finally- tomato, check, plastic tub, check- and began to make his way to the checkout. However, he was suddenly stopped in his tracks by two very familiar faces.

"Well well well, would you look who finally left the house," Ray Toro, one of Franks best- not to mention only- friends, greeted him with a friendly hug.

"What the hell?" His other friend, Bob Bryar exclaimed dramatically. "Is this some sort of miracle?" He pretended to faint.

Frank laughed along with them. "Hey leave me alone, you know sometimes I get these sudden urges to actually go out into the open."

Bob made a disgusted face. "To be honest Frank we don't really wanna know about your 'sudden urges'" he made quotation marks with his fingers. Ray started to laugh rather loudly in the middle of the busy supermarket, whilst Frank was red faced and full of embarrassment.

"Har har har very funny Bob," Frank said sarcastically.

After Ray had finally calmed down, his eyes flicked to the object in Franks hand. "Dude why haven't you been at work? And you don't even like soup, why the hell are you buying soup?" Ray inspected.

Shit, Frank just realised that he hadn't told his friends about the story of how he had found Gerard homeless on the street and how he took him in and how they've now been living together for almost two months and how he was so incredibly in love with the man. He figured he needed to get out more.

"Uh well, it's for a friend," he mentally cursed himself for using a poor excuse, though it wasn't exactly a lie. Bob gave Frank a confused look, like he was trying to fit the pieces together.

Ray was equally as confused. "So what Iero, you just buy soup for your friends now? Where's ours?" He winked and nudged Bob at the same time.

Finally, something clicked and Bob believed he'd worked out the answer. "Ray Ray Ray! Franks got a girlfriend!" He shouted like some nine year old girl in a playground, earning a few looks for the people who were walking by.

Ray looked absolutely gobsmacked while Frank was blushing even harder, even though Bobs assumption was wrong. "No no no no no that's not right!" Frank began to explain, his heart pounding.

"Oh yeah, so why are you buying food that you don't even like, why do you never leave the house anymore," Ray raised his eyebrows as he noticed something more. "And why do I know that's not your shirt, eh?"

Frank looked down, he hadn't realised he'd been wearing Gerard's old Iron Maiden shirt all day. Not that he would mind, the two always wore each others clothes. Bobs jaw practically dropped to the ground.

"Fuck dude I can't believe you, Frank, of all fucking people, are getting laid!" Now that definitely earned some distressed looks from the people surrounding them.

"Shut the fuck up Bob, I am not getting laid, I do not have a girlfriend. Just let me explain," Ray and Bob waited like patient children for Frank to continue. "You remember Gerard Way from high school? Ray I think you might have been closer to his brother, Mikey?"

Ray nodded, his hair bouncing with him. "Didn't he end up going to that art school in New York or some shit?"

"Yeah yeah," Frank continued. "But he, uh, he got kicked out and then he came back here and his mom kinda kicked him out and I found him on the street and he's kinda been living with me for a while now," he was mumbling so fast he had to take a breath when he finished his sentence.

The other two men exchanged wide eye glances with each other. "So you've got a boyfriend! Congrats dude," Bob exclaimed, patting Frank on the shoulder.

"No I fucking don't! Gerard just needs a place to stay for a while, there's fucking nothing going on between us okay?" Frank was starting to get frustrated now. He could only wish that there were something going on between them both.

"Jeez, Frank don't be a dick. We're only messing with ya," Bob laughed. "You'll let us know though, y'know, if anything happens," he winked.

Ray shuddered. "Dude, leave me out of this, I don't wanna know all the details of your sex life."

"Now now, just because I can actually get laid now and again. Unlike you two," Frank snorted. He checked his watch, he'd been gone for quite a while and should probably get heading back."Look, I gotta go Gerard will probably be wondering where I am."

Bob made an 'ooo' sound as Ray said, "Alright alright, we'll let you get back to your loverboy. Oh and tell him we said hi, too."

Rolling his eyes and sighing loudly, Frank exchanged goodbyes with his friends. It was nice seeing them outside of work once in a while. However, it was not nice when they were harassing him in the middle of a supermarket. Though, he really should have mentioned the Gerard story sooner, they were his best friends after all.

Thoughts aside, he paid for the soup and headed home. When he got back Gerard was laid in exactly the same place as when he left him. It was kinda cute really.

"Hey lazy," Frank greeted him. "Have you just been laid there this whole time?"

Gerard got up off the couch and made his way over to Frank in the kitchen. "Excuse me, I'll have you know that I actually decided to take a shower." He laughed.

Gasping for effect, Frank ran his hands through Gerard's slightly damp hair. "Wow it feels..." He made a dramatic thinking face. "Clean! Someone deserves a medal," He exclaimed.

Gerard cocked his head to the side. "Why thank you," he smirked.

Ugh, Frank had missed that smirk. The one that said 'take me to bed and fuck me through the floor'. Believe him, he would do just that if Gerard was into it.

"What took you so long anyways?" Gerard asked as Frank placed the soup into the microwave. "You were gone for like an hour, I was starting to get kinda worried."

Frank smiled, a genuine smile. He found it really sweet that Gerard was worrying about him, that he genuinely cared about him.

"Aw you don't have to worry, I just ran into a couple of friends. You remember Ray Toro and Bob Bryar? From high school?" Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think, and then nodded. "Well they said hi," Frank said quickly, he didn't want to discuss further the conversation he exchanged earlier.

"Oh cool, I haven't seen them both in years!" Gerard smiled. "Tell them I said hi too, next time you see them." The microwave made an ear piercing beeping noise, announcing that the soup was ready.

"Yeah yeah I will," Frank said as he poured the hot liquid into a bowl. "Hey maybe we could go out one night, like have a little reunion." He laughed, it was so unlike him to make plans like this. Usually Ray and Bob had to tackle Frank out of the house, yet he was starting to believe that Gerard was changing him for the better.

Gerard hummed. "That would be fun, I haven't been out in ages, man." They just smiled at each other, Gerard sipped his soup almost silently as they watched some shitty horror film that was already on the TV.

When Gerard finished his soup, he got comfortable with his head in Franks lap, once again, and yawned. A few hours passed and he rubbed his eyes.

"M'tired Frankie," he whispered as he shut his eyelids for the night. Frank knew that was his queue to get up and go to his own bed. Though before he did, he couldn't resist giving Gerard a small, quick kiss on his forehead. He just looked so peaceful laid there with his eyes shut tight, mouth half hanging open, brilliant red hair stuck to the pillow.

"Goodnight Gee," Frank whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fic ever so I'm sorry it sucks. I've had this idea in my head for ages so I basically just wanted to create it lmao. Comments & Kudos are appreciated!


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